Only in My Mind
by ifiknowyouatall
Summary: They'd both been manipulated, beaten down, destroyed, by the same woman. In the end, maybe that's what brought them together - him the little lost boy without a family, her the girl genius without a cause. Of this dysfunctional family Hetty had tried to create, they were perhaps the two greatest casualties.
1. Chapter 1

Starting up a separate thread here for my Nallen stuff so it doesn't get mixed in with my Densi stuff. Hope y'all like it. I don't own the characters, in case there was any confusion there. This is a post-ep drabble from Praesidium earlier this year.

* * *

"Kensi and Deeks had left hours ago. They'd driven her home. One of Deeks sweatshirts that he kept at the office had somehow made it around her shoulders. His hand guided her towards her own apartment door. She didn't remember giving Kensi her keys, but she could here the shower running as Deeks gently led her towards the back of the small flat.

She could hear him in the kitchen now, probably preparing her the same tea she'd made him countless times during Kensi's absence. Stream began to fill the bathroom as the warm water filled the tub. Kensi slowly removed Deeks sweatshirt, making eye contact and pulling her into a fierce hug. She must have said something coherent enough for Kensi to feel comfortable enough to leave her alone as she stepped into the shower.

She turned the water to near scalding and stood under the shower stream until her skin turned red and raw. She tried not to think about what had happened, about what she'd done, but the acne at Hetty's kept running through her mind on some infinite loop. It was the quiet knock on the door, barely audible, that snapped her back to present.

"Nell…Nellosaurus…you feel up to eating? I promise I didn't let Kensi anywhere near the kitchen."

She didn't reply, but managed to turn the water off, which appeared to be enough of an answer for Deeks to get him to leave his post at the door. Kensi had laid out some old sweats for her and she pulled them over her still damp frame and padded out into the living room.

Her two surrogate siblings positioned at either side as she slowly nibbled at the food that Deeks had prepared. And somehow, over the course of the next several hours she managed to make enough eye contact, speak just enough, to make Kensi and Deeks ok with leaving her alone for the night, like she wanted to be. Like she deserved to be.

But now it was past the witching hour and she'd realized her mistake. The apartment was too quiet, the night too still. And she stared straight forward into nothingness. It's be easier if she could cry, let go of some of the guilt, but there was something intangible holding her back.

The knock on the door at 2 am really shouldn't have surprised her. It's not like he slept anyway. She let him in silently; sat next to him on the couch. He didn't know what to say to her. This wasn't their relationship. That had always been one of equals. She was the deceptively tough one, wise beyond her too-youthful facade. She was Hetty-in-training; this shouldn't bother her. And yet he knew it did.

His arm around her shoulder drew her into him and that's when he heard it. A muffled sob that wracked him as much as it did her. He didn't know when this spirited red head had wormed her way into his inner circle, not many people were ever allowed there. But as the tears soaked through his shirt, he felt the same pain he felt when he first shot a man, too many years ago to count.

When he felt her shoulders stop shaking so violently, he led her back to her bedroom. Not in the way he'd done in the few nights of weakness (his words) or release (hers) over the course of the last year, but to tuck her in, with her looking younger than he ever thought possible.

He stood guard, perched at the end of her bed until dawn came, when he stood and brushed a strand of copper out of her sleeping eyes and quietly left stood to leave, knowing he'd see her at work the next day and she'd look just like she always did. And yet, she'd never be the same.


	2. Chapter 2

_They're not mine, just having fun._

* * *

 _"I'm just too selfish I guess. I know you're tired and restless. It's no surprise we've come undone" -Miranda Lambert/Blake Shelton_

It had started with drunken karaoke and a morning after that was less awkward then it really had a right to be. She knew better. Dammit, she was a smart woman and she knew better. But she'd let herself enjoy this, the nights of comfort after hard cases, the occasional weekend where if you squinted just the right way, you'd almost think they were a real couple. A normal couple.

He never lied to her, never promised her anything he couldn't give. He remained kind and uncharacteristically shy, almost ashamed, like he thought he was using her somehow. But despite their age difference, despite what it looked like from the outside, she remained in control of her choices and her actions.

Until she wasn't. It caught her by surprise, and it really shouldn't have. But one Saturday morning, padding around the still-empty house, sipping her cup of coffee, she realized she'd fallen in love with him.

He was getting too comfortable. Things were becoming too routine. He needed her just a little too much. He'd become too dependent on this release, on this normalcy. And he was losing sight of the long term goal. Weekends that used to be spent scouring for information on his past, his family, were now spent curled up in her arms. This wasn't his life.

But letting go is easier said than done. And you couldn't say who started pulling away first. There was no dramatic scene to pinpoint the event. They just weren't the type. Ever professionals at work, it was the after that now felt a little bit empty. They still gravitated towards each other after a hard case, and occasionally they'd slip back into old habits. But she always left in the dead of night, not letting herself dream. And he never asked her to stay, resigned to continue his journey alone.

 _"But I can't unlove you just because, you say it's better in the long run."_


	3. Chapter 3

Characters aren't mine. Song's not mine. Just borrowing for awhile. More speculation about Season 7. I promise to give them back when I'm done.

* * *

 _"One's for queens and one's for fools. One's the future and one's the past. One's forever and one won't last" -Tim McGraw_

The stool he sat on creaked as he shifted he unconsciously shifted his weight back and forth, the large rip in the vinyl making it impossible to find a comfortable position.

The ice in his Scotch had long ago melted, but he continued to swirl the light brown liquid. Alternating his focus between his drink and a delicate piece of jewelry in his left hand, he didn't hear the petite redhead hop up onto the stool next to him.

"Did you ask her?"

"Sam told you?"

""I will never reveal my sources. So, did you?"

"No. She actually…she actually decided that maybe this life wasn't for her. I mean, who can blame her? You kind of want to know the first name of your groom when you say I do."

"Highly overrated." She said glibly as she slid a manilla envelope over to him.

"What's this?"

"I'm tired of keeping her secrets." Was her only explanation as she ordered her own Scotch, neat, and waited for him to open it.

The envelope contained a single picture. An old man, drinking an espresso, in the window of a familiar cafe.

"How? When? Why?" He stuttered, his eyes begging his friend for the answers to the questions his mouth could barely form.

"The picture's a couple months old, May 2015. It's the last physical evidence. But I have three contacts willing to speak to you once you get in country who have more recent information. As far as the why, I'm not sure we'll ever know. But I'm not really sure I care."

"He jumped down off the stool, put a couple of bills on the bar to pay for both their drinks. Putting his hand on one cheek, he kissed the other. Lingering and whispering in her ear.

"I can never repay you for this. Thank you."

As he walked away, she shuddered slightly, the only indication of this whole ordeal's impact on her. One long gulp of her drink, she spun around to catch him with his hand on the door handle.

"G. Before you leave…we need you here. Your family is going to need you here. I still have one more envelope to deliver tonight."

And then he saw Deeks, shoulders slumped, enter through the bar's back entrance. He nodded to his team member as they both walked towards Nell.

He stood behind Nell as she pushed a much thicker envelope towards the blonde cop. As she turned away to give the man some privacy, his eyes connected with hers.

"He'll still be there. Trust me."

"I do."


	4. Chapter 4

Tumblr Prompt: "You got me a present" Don't own any of them.

* * *

"What's this?" He asked as he put his bag down, looking at the other three occupants of the open plan workspace.

"Looks like a present to me, G." Sam deadpanned to his partner, not looking up from his computer.

"What led you to that brilliant deduction, big guy? Was it the bow? Cause I was on the fence, but the bow is pretty compelling evidence." Deeks joined in the teasing, receiving a good natured eye roll from his deskmate.

Callen didn't come back with some witty reply, just sat contemplating the small box with a bow on it, before opening it, shutting it and sticking it in his pocket without a word. Deeks, who knew better than anyone else in the room what a childhood without presents did to the adult who got them, wisely ended his rambling about present wrapping and turned to make coffee for both Kensi and himself until Eric called them up to ops for a case.

Deeks was the only one to notice Nell giving Callen some extra long side eye when they all entered the room, but wisely used that bit of knowledge to pull Eric out of ops with some made up question about his computer as Sam and Kensi went to question a suspect and he saw Callen lagging behind. This got him the slightest nod of appreciation.

"What's this for?" Callen asked Nell before she even turned around from the big screen.

"A key - people tend to use them to open things. Locked things." She responded, not turning around.

"Nell, I thought we agreed…"

""To only talk about work in ops, set a good example for the rest of the team." She lamely tried to rescue Callen's lapse in remembering that Hetty had eyes everywhere in that room.

"Right. I'll just go…" He stammered uncharacteristically. How could one little box throw him off so much.

"Happy birthday." She said quietly. And with the look in his eyes she knew she'd given herself away. It was one of surprise and just a little sadness.

When he entered her apartment later that night, picking the lock, as the key she gave did not open her front door, much to his relief.

Despite the late hour, she wasn't surprised and was waiting on the couch, curled up in her sweats, hair in a ponytail, sipping tea. He had to remind himself, as he often did, that while she was younger than him, she was not nearly as young as she looked./

"Why'd you wish me happy birthday this morning?" He asked as he sat down, looking more vulnerable then she'd ever seen.

"Today's your birthday. It's what people do."

"Not to me."

"Sam doesn't even get you a card?"

"He does. But not today, on the day I told him was my birthday, in April. The day that's in my work file. Not today. Why did you think today was my birthday, Nell?"

"Oh. Maybe I was just wrong. I probably misread the date. You know I've been working extra hours lately."

"You don't make those kind of mistakes."

"Before she left for Romania, Hetty had me make a fake death certificate for you. Today's the day she gave me as date of birth. I guess it just stuck. I'd never done anything before, because it wasn't my place, but now that we're whatever this is, I thought maybe I'd risk a small gift." She didn't look at him as she made her confession. She barely took time to breathe as she got it all out and so was taken aback by the soft touch of his lips on hers. But there was no mistaking the salty taste of the single tear that'd run down his cheek.

"Today's your real birthday and you…dammit, I hate Hetty sometimes." She kissed him back, more fiercely this time.

That night there were no promises of forever, there never were between them, but there were promises of a renewed search and a future with just a few less unanswered questions.

As dawn broke and he quietly left the bed, taking just a second to pause at her bright hair splayed haphazardly across both pillows, he heard her mumble.

"Don't you want to know what the key opens?"

"Doesn't matter, Nell. Doesn't matter." And the last thing she saw before she closed her eyes again was him smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Character (that I do not own) Death.

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 _"Ya' know she came to see him one last time. Oh, we all wondered if she would. And it kept running through my mind. This time he's over her for good." -George Jones_

Deeks caught the glimpse of red hair as he looked up from the makeshift podium. She stood, half hidden by an old oak tree that stood watch over a sea of stones. But he didn't make eye contact, didn't acknowledge that a woman who he had once considered a sister was suddenly back in his family's life, years after she'd played her role in tearing it apart.

Instead, he wiped a single tear from his cheek. Finished his speech with "I'll miss you, man. But I know where ever you are, there's not a cloud in the sky and the waves are epic. Because that's what you deserve. Simple bliss."

Stepping down, he squeezed the large, broad shoulder of his friend and mentor and sat down next to his wife. Tears filled her mismatched eyes, threatening to spill over. This is what remained of their family. One that had been torn apart by a lonely man's quest and a woman desperately trying to save him.

Kensi and Deeks left the earliest. Not willing to risk their unborn child on what seemed like a fool's errand. But they never expected the fallout they saw when they returned.

Sam and Eric stood by as Callen pursued the escaped Janvier, grasping for answers. They'd been there when Hetty sacrificed herself, almost as penance. And Nell…Nell became the woman she was groomed to become. And ultimately, it was that and not the death of their matriarch that dealt the final blow.

Because Deeks had returned to his seat as the priest began the final prayer, he didn't see the man walk up to the redhead, still hidden behind the tree.

As the first lilting notes of Amazing Grace traveled through the cemetery, she began to softly sing in a surprisingly rich alto voice.

"I didn't know you could sing." The man said as he grasped her hand in an effort to comfort her as she faced her biggest regret.

"I stopped. It was something he and I always did. After…well, after we became whatever dysfunctional term you want to call us, I just couldn't."

She didn't look at him. Didn't lean her head on his shoulder for comfort, just looked straight ahead. Seeking comfort in this man's arms and providing him release, had become her drug once. And it had cost her her best friend. So on the day of his funeral, she forced herself to abstain.

 _"He stopped loving her today." -George Jones_


	6. Chapter 6

Still not mine. Not the song, not the fictional characters I obsess over. Can kind of be considered a prequel to the last chapter though, its all part of the same headcanon that spawned my first Nallen (Chapter 7 in Water from the Moon)

* * *

 _"And I miss you like hell tonight. But I won't pick up this phone. Because I'm not supposed to call you." Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood_

She'd been the one to walk out. The one to leave him in an empty house, reeling from the information he'd sought so long. Their family was shattered, and it was going to stay that way. Hetty was dead and the damage she'd left in her wake had destroyed everything she'd worked to build. They'd tried to put back the pieces initially, but Eric couldn't stick around for long and she didn't blame him. Sam tried for awhile, but the betrayal from their mother figure and the loss of his surrogate brothers and sister was too much and he'd taken over the stay at home parent role, letting Michelle return to the CIA.

The last time she'd seen Callen, the last time anyone had seen Callen, he'd been sleeping and she was taking her first steps towards becoming the woman who'd left them all in the rubble of her mistakes.

She couldn't sit her chair, at her desk, but the younger woman had tried to do her job for a while. It'd been Nate who'd pulled her away. Made her go back to her family, the one that raised her, not the one she'd made. Making her take a breath, regroup and recoup before there was no turning back on her current path of isolation and loneliness.

That's where she was, sipping tea in her mother's kitchen when she got the call, from a voice she never expected to here.

"Nell, it's Eric." His voice was tired, worn, any remainder of his former zeal was long gone.

"Eric, oh my god, how are you? It's been way too long." She rambled quickly, awkwardly.

"Listen, this isn't about small talk. I set up a notification system before I left NCIS to let me know if any of the former team ended up in a hospital. I guess I couldn't bear to just cut you all out completely. Anyway, I got a ping this morning. Callen's at county. I thought about calling Sam first, but…" His voice caught in his throat, this next statement still painful to his still mending heart. "He'd asking for you."

"Before she could take a breath and ask him to repeat that, the line went dead. Two hours later, she was on a plane back to LA.


	7. Chapter 7

As he watched the redhead slowly, purposefully, approach him at the bar, legs clad in tight jeans that flared out slightly at the bottom, hiding heels that were making her closer to average height. Her top, a tasteful number, conservative at first glance, silk number that cascaded in draped layers down the front. But he knew it was held together in the back by a single line of fabric, almost making him wish she was walking away from him and not towards him. Waiting for her to join him at the bar, his mind flashed back to earlier that morning.

* * *

"Are you flirting with me, Velma?"

"Well I thought so, but if you're asking, I guess I'm doing it wrong." He couldn't see her face as he laughed along with his shaggy-haired coworker. The diminutive redhead did look surprisingly like a child playing dress up as she tugged at the folded up hem of a yet-to-be-altered dress from wardrobe.

"You're supposed to be helping me, Deeks, not laughing at me. This is hard enough as it is." She said, giggling slightly herself at the absurdity of the situation. "God, I wish Kensi was back. She's so much better at this."

"Not better. Just different." He said as he approached his two coworkers. Turning Nell towards him, Callen looked her over once.

"Tell Hetty that you can't just wear altered versions of Kensi's old wardrobe. She should know better."

"Are you telling me I can't pull this off?" Nell winked as she posed jokingly.

"That's not what I said...I"

Hands on hips, Nell's expression turned questioning, daring Callen to finish that thought, as Deeks raised his hands as if to say, "You're playing with fire."

"Trust your training." Callen told her with a wink.

"You train them for this at NCIS school? How very not feminist of you!" Deeks added in mock indignation. "Seriously, Nay-Nay, you'll be great."

* * *

He was forced to come back to present when she sat down three seats away and order a drink. Scotch, near - a drink that contradicted her girl-next-door facade. She was an intriguing paradox, soft face and youth on the outside, maturity and a growing hardness on the inside. All passion. That last part had surprised him the night he had told her to trust her training the first time. The first time he realized just what she was keeping so well under wraps. He knew she'd understand his code when he'd told her how to play her role tonight. He just hoped he wouldn't give himself away as she played it. His obsession with her hidden side just wasn't healthy.

There was no knock on his door later that evening as she quietly slide the heels off and began tiptoeing her way towards the bedroom.

"Stop." Came the voice from the corner by the back door.

She felt his hand on her hip, his breath on her neck as he pushed her perfectly curled hair to one side.

"I like this view." His hand splayed open, moving, touching every inch of bare skin.

"I thought you might."


	8. Chapter 8

_I don't own them. Just having a little fun._

* * *

 _You have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun."_ -Hamilton

* * *

She spun the thin gold band with her thumb as she entered the Mission, her steps quicker than normal. It wasn't real. It was all part of the assignment…the one she was rushing to update the team on. Still, she'd had to keep telling herself that for the better part of a month.

They'd pulled the assignment, a joint op with the CIA. He'd placed the ring on her finger in the bullpen, joking that he may not have a first name to give her, but she could have his fake last one.

She'd laughed. Yet the instant she was alone, she nearly collapsed under the weight of it all. How the hell was she supposed to do this? The lines of their relationship, really, lack there of, were so damn blurred already. She'd accepted the pause in whatever the hell they were for more than a year with Joelle in the picture. But he's shown up at her door again on Jan 3rd, a little sadder, more downtrodden than normal and she'd let him back in. Into her house and her bed.

Kensi and Deeks couldn't handle this, they had another assignment, so she'd been called up, needing the long term undercover experience anyway. She just hadn't expected it to feel so real.

She was a big girl. She had no delusions that he was ever going to be her Prince Charming or the guy she brought home. Rather, as she felt herself fracturing under the pressure and expectation to be the next Hetty, already-broken him had been the only one to understand.

It was just sex, release, coping. She told herself time and time again. But then it wasn't and they were sharing a house and a bed, day in and day out. And then the mission took an unexpected turn…Janvier was back and he had a chance to find out more information about his family, his history, his name. God damn pride, he'd taken off, the lone wolf she'd forgotten just for a moment that he was.

Barging through the slated doors and into her comfort zone, she found the team waiting.

"He's gone."


End file.
